


M is for Manopause

by vipjuly



Series: ZYX's [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gross Descriptions of Second Puberty, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Bites, Mentions of Feminization, Mentions of Mpreg (nothing explicit), Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Moobs, Omega Dean, Scent Bond, Secret Identity, just trying to get better at it, male omegas have small genitals, mentions of fertility issues, not a kink tho, not too gross tho, these tags are out of control i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vipjuly/pseuds/vipjuly
Summary: Dean's been on suppressants ever since he presented. He's gone his whole life masquerading as a successful, asexual beta, who owns his own business and keeps mostly to himself. When Dr. Barnes tells Dean he has to get off his suppressants because his body can't handle them anymore, he, of course, freaks out. His best friend Castiel offers to help him through the change, because he's a good fuckin' guy, but Dean gets more than he expects out of Castiel's tender loving care. Things are going ok under Castiel's watchful eye... and Dean's new nose discovers that Castiel's been hiding a secret, too.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: ZYX's [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1279094
Comments: 88
Kudos: 868





	M is for Manopause

**Author's Note:**

> she's back at a/b/o and unsure of generally everything  
> I changed the summary like 3 times I hate myself

John Winchester had been beside himself when his ‘best boy’, the son he’d been grooming to take over his business, the son he’d boasted to all his buddies about for being a star wrestler, a man’s man... had presented with a womb instead of a knot. From that moment on John glowered, made snide comments, and by all means ensured that Dean didn’t go anywhere near the auto shop - Dean’s favorite place to spend his free time. John had been less than supportive, to put things mildly, and since Sammy was so young when Dean presented, Dean made sure that his problems would be nobody’s problems.

The omega clinic he’d found was an ‘ask no questions’ sort of facility, funded by charities and donations and actually pretty top notch. Dean had immediately gone on suppressants, got a prescription for some industrial-strength blockers, and emancipated himself from the Winchester household before graduating. The job he’d gotten while passing as a young and determined beta hadn’t been ideal, but it supported him and his assisted housing apartment, and he muddled through life, John totally fine to pretend that he suddenly only had one son.

Sammy had presented as an alpha.

Dean hasn’t talked to his father in fifteen years, Sam in ten. 

Now, at almost thirty-six years old, Dean has made a name for himself. Granted, he’s made a name for himself as a beta, but he’s proud of where he is in life because fuck you, John Winchester, Dean owns his own repair shop and makes three times what you do in a year. Suck on that, you sexist asshole.

Vindictiveness aside, Dean’s been able to manage. No matter what life throws at him, he’s been able to pick himself up and move forward and make the best of the situation. He loves his job, he has amazing friends, and despite the past he’s left behind, he knows his future looks bright because it’s what _he_ made it out to be.

Which is why he’s completely blindsided, today, when his doctor walks into the exam room and announces that he needs to get off of the suppressants. 

“What?” Dean feels his palms start to sweat. “Doc, I’ve been on suppressants half my life. I can’t just stop ‘em.”

“Actually, Dean,” Dr. Barnes sends him a sympathetic glance, “that’s exactly why you have to stop them.” From her little rolly stool she crosses her legs, adjusting the clipboard on her lap and leveling Dean with probably the most serious look she’s ever given him. “Your biological chemistry is changing. Your last blood screen had some worrying results.”

Dean’s stomach ties itself in knots. He swallows thickly, “What… what’s wrong, doc?”

Pamela’s pretty eyes search Dean’s face for a few seconds, before she glances down at her clipboard. “Because of the suppressants and blockers, you’ve been stifling your body’s natural instincts. The longer you put off heat, the higher the chance you become infertile. Not only that, but Dean..” she lifts her gaze to him, eyes concerned. “The chemicals in your blood that seal a mating bond are almost totally depleted.” 

Dean stares at her, trying to process.

Luckily, Dr. Barnes has been Dean’s physician for quite a while, and she’s gotten very good at deciphering Dean’s mannerisms and tics. “Dean, this means that your ability to mate and have pups has basically been eradicated. If you don’t stop the suppressants now, your body will become infertile, and you will not be able to properly complete a mating bond.” 

Dean’s toes go numb. He white-knuckles the edge of the exam table, suddenly acutely aware of his bare ass on the crinkly paper, the stale air coming from the vent in the ceiling, his heartbeat thudding against his ribs. 

Now, Dean’s never been of the mind that he’d become barefoot and pregnant one day. Finding a mate hasn’t been high on his priority list, let alone having pups, because he’s been so busy passing as a beta and taking care of his business. The only people who know he’s an omega are John and Sam, who don’t talk to him, and Dr. Barnes and her nurses. Hell, Dean’s never even had sex for fuck’s sake, too paranoid about what would happen if someone went down on him and discovered his slick hole and small cock. So while Dr. Barnes’ news is shocking, he’s unsure about whether or not he actually cares about what she’s saying. 

“If we stop the suppressants now, Dean, it will give your body the opportunity to bounce back. Your body’s natural chemicals will start to replenish themselves, and-”

“I can’t,” Dean blurts. 

Dr. Barnes quiets. 

Dean starts to feel panic rising in his chest, his heartbeat in his throat. “I can’t, Pam. I can’t come out as an omega. My business- my friends-” Suddenly it’s hard to breathe, his vision starting to tunnel. He’s vaguely aware of Dr. Barnes standing up and moving around the room, his senses only returning when she puts something soft and fragrant under his nose. Eyes fluttering, Dean reaches up to grab her wrists, huffing the scent of her scarf, Dr. Barnes’ lilac and amber alpha scent washing over him and calming him considerably. His nose is terrible, but this is a special scarf she uses for patients in certain circumstances, such as now, saturated with her scent. When he finally regains a bit of sanity, he looks up at her with pleading eyes. “My whole life, Pam. It’s over.” 

“Dean,” Dr. Barnes cradles his face in her hands, sending him a small, warm smile. “Dean, all the relationships you have created over the years… those people love you for _you_ , not your secondary gender. Times are different from when you were a pup. This won’t be the end of the world. But Dean…” her voice softens, his eyes closing to absorb her scent and words. “If you stay on these suppressants and continue to deny your body its natural inclinations… you’ll die.”

Eyes tearing up, face flushing, Dean lets out a little sob. Dr. Barnes has always been too good to Dean, he thinks, as she wraps him up in her arms and comforts him in a way that no other doctor would probably comfort their patient. And Dean spends so much time denying himself any outside comfort, touch-starved, that he just melts. He melts in her arms, the only person who _knows_ him and his history and everything he’s gone through, and just… cries. He’s not sure how long he carries on, sniffling and snuffling and coughing, but eventually Dr. Barnes pulls away and thumbs under his red-rimmed, puffy eyes, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box and starting to gently dab his face.

“Everything will be alright, Dean.” 

He’s not sure he believes her. 

“Do you consent to going off of the suppressants? The blockers should work until your first heat hits, and then I’m afraid they won’t do you any good. But it should give you time to come out to the people you care about before your body does it for you.” 

Huh. That’s considerate. Dean wipes a hand down his face, grabs another tissue, then nods. “Yeah... “ he coughs, his voice coming out watery and wrecked. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

“There will be some side effects,” Dr. Barnes cautions as she sits down on her stool and starts making notes on the clipboard. “You only had one heat before you went on suppressants. When your body cycles again it will be… intense. I recommend hiring a service or even finding someone you trust to help you through it.” She sends him another sympathetic glance. “I know you aren’t… experienced-” Dean huffs an unamused laugh, “-so maybe consider finding someone to be with before your heat hits.”

“Are you giving me a prescription to hook up, doc?” Dean finally cracks a smile. 

Dr. Barnes winks, “If I weren’t your doctor I’d be prescribing myself to help you out, handsome.” 

Dean lets some of the tension go from his body. This is what he’s used to with Dr. Barnes - jokes, flirtation, comfort. She sends him a wink when she senses him mellowing out, makes a few more notes on her clipboard, then stands to go over to the medical cart on the other side of the room.

“Alright, big boy. Time for your shot.”

“I’d rather you poke me with somethin’ else, doc,” Dean says, shifting on the table, wincing when the paper sticks to the sweaty skin of his butt. 

“This is something to help your body flush the suppressants from your system. If your body behaves normally, your first heat won’t come for two months. It could be sooner, it could be later.” She hikes up the sleeve of Dean’s gown, cleansing the skin with a cotton ball. “I’m going to send you home with some information on what you should watch out for.” Dean barely feels the prick of the needle before Dr. Barnes is pulling away. “Even if you don’t find someone to be intimate with, is there someone you trust that you can come out to? The sooner the better, honey. You’re going to need support when your body starts changing.”

Dean’s mind supplies him with blue eyes and wild, dark hair; he flushes a little, clears his throat, and nods. “Yeah… there’s someone I can talk to.” 

“Good.” Dr. Barnes gives Dean another hug, squeezing him tightly. She’s not really maternal, by any means, mostly because she’s a huge flirt, but she’s a comforting female presence that Dean has relied on for a long time. She lets him go, knuckling his chin playfully. “If you have any complications that can’t be fixed with food, water, or sex, go to the hospital. If things go alright, I want you to be back here in four months.” 

“Roger that,” Dean says with a small smile. When he leaves the doctor’s office, that awful lead weight settles in his gut again, his body already feeling off-kilter.

To think, all he wanted to do today was to get a flu shot.

\--

Castiel Novak has been Dean’s best friend for the better part of seven years. He owns a bookstore-slash-cafe down the street from Dean’s auto shop, and has been the source of Dean’s caffeine fix every morning basically since Dean opened his business. Dean’s always been slightly smitten with the alpha; not only is the man handsome as hell, but his personality is just so… good. He’s the absolute opposite of an alpha stereotype, even-tempered and kind to everyone he meets. He’s got a quirky personality and doesn’t seem to be aware of _how_ good looking he is. He entertains Dean’s oddities, even spoils him occasionally, and is always a reliable shoulder to lean on. He’s never questioned Dean’s beta status, has never asked Dean why he doesn’t have a significant other, and most importantly, has never lorded over him with his alpha status.

They have a good friendship. A great friendship. A _best_ friendship. And alright, maybe Dean’s a little in love with him but who could blame him? 

Naturally, Cas is the only person he thinks of that he trusts enough to divulge his true self to.

Naturally, Dean thinks that Cas is also probably the only person he trusts enough for the more… intimate side of things.

A rock and a hard place. 

It’s been a week since his visit to the doctor and Dean feels on edge for various reasons. The scent blockers he’d used worked both ways; not only could others not scent Dean, but it muted Dean’s own olfactory system, truly mimicking a beta who doesn’t have the refined nose of an alpha or omega. The past few days, Dean’s senses have been on overdrive. Going half his life without being able to scent and then suddenly being able to… He’d had to call in to work, which was basically unheard of, his alpha head mechanic Benny seriously concerned when Dean had called to tell him he’d be out for a while. Dean had told him he’ll be fine, Benny had grumbled, and Dean had been (once again) thankful that the alphas in his life aren’t aggressive knotheads. 

Granted, the insecure part of him says they’re only so great towards him because they think he’s a beta… but that’s beside the point. 

Anyway, tonight Cas is coming over. Tonight Cas is coming over because Dean had invited him over text, a simple _hey, i need to talk to you_ all the alpha needed to drop anything else he had going on. Because Cas is fucking great, ok? So of course if Dean said he needed something, Cas would just… be there. No questions asked. 

Dean’s fucking nervous. His own house smells foreign to him, the fact that there is so much to _smell_ at all the cause of it. Over the past week Dean has caught whiffs of himself; the base of his scent is mandarin, peach, and a fragrant bouquet. It would be kinda girly, really, if it weren’t for the richer notes of amber and patchouli - and he’s noticed when he’s frustrated or angry, wafts of pink pepper cut through all that pleasantness. He’s worried about what people will think when they smell him; will they think him a weak omega? Will his masculinity be questioned because, like, he _looks_ like a beta, or even an alpha, but his scent will give him away like a frigging beacon? How will people react when they associate this scent with him? 

Oh God. 

He’s not ready to face the world. 

“Dean?” 

And _of fucking course_ he’d left the front door unlocked, allowing Cas to just waltz on in like he usually does, no big deal. Dean freezes where he’d been pacing between the dining room and the edge of the living room, his eyes zeroing in on Cas, who is quite obviously scenting the air with a bit of confusion. Sweat breaks out on the back of Dean’s neck, his gut twists, oh God, he’s gonna puke-

“Did you stop wearing blockers?” 

Dean feels the earth fall from his feet. “What?” 

Castiel shrugs out of his coat in the foyer, hanging it up. He takes off his shoes, casual as ever, then walks further into Dean’s house. There’s the faintest of smiles on his lips, eyes soft as he regards Dean from a relatively safe distance. “Your scent. It’s strong.” 

“I- uh- it’s- it’s-” Dean flounders. Cas knew he’d been wearing blockers? And never said anything? Does that also mean that Cas knows he’s not a beta?

Suddenly Cas is a lot closer, Dean’s newly reborn nose catching whiffs of flowers and cedarwood, so similar to his own scent. “Dean, you need to breathe.” Cas’s huge hands land on Dean’s shoulders, grounding him.

Realizing he’s been staring at Cas’s chest, Dean rips his eyes away from the worn Captain Picard shirt to meet Cas’s worried blue gaze. Dean’s lips flubber around a few times, and he’d be swaying if Cas didn’t have such a good grip on him. “You knew?” 

“I suspected,” Cas says, like Dean’s whole world isn’t turning upside down. “When we’re close I can always smell something… more.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. Cas’s scent is starting to clog up his senses. 

“It’d be rude,” Cas says with a wry smile. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s no business of mine whether or not you wear blockers.” 

“I’m an omega,” falls out of Dean’s mouth before he can even think twice. 

Cas’s smile quirks just a _smidge_ more. “I’m becoming aware.” 

“That doesn’t- you don’t-” Dean’s breath comes out in rapid whuffs, his shoulders burning where Cas’s strong hands keep him still. “You’re not mad?”

That finally makes Cas frown. “Why would I be mad?”

“That I lied about my secondary,” Dean says, “that I’ve been telling everyone I’m a beta.”

“As I said,” Cas says slowly, patiently, “it’s not my business, Dean. You are your own person and only you may dictate how you choose to live.” 

“I need to sit down,” Dean wheezes.

Cas guides him to the sofa, helping Dean to sit down. Their thighs touch, Cas’s hand stays on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s eyes tightly shut as he tries to clamp down on the impending panic attack. Cas is breathing pretty loud, probably for Dean’s benefit, and after a few moments Dean’s breathing finally syncs with his, calming considerably. Leaning back against the couch, Dean covers his face with his hands, letting out a groan. 

“Dean,” Cas’s voice rumbles comfortingly over the omega. “What can I do for you?” 

Something long forgotten inside Dean squirms at Cas’s considerate question. Something inside him gleefully twists with the notion of the alpha wanting to look after him. Dean tries to squash it down, but he manages to drop his hands to his lap, staring at the black television screen against the opposite wall. 

“It’s-” he swallows. “It’s gonna be really hard, man. My doctor is making me get offa the suppressants ‘cause I…” he licks his lips, closing his eyes again. “I was abusin’ my body and if I kept at it, I’da died sooner than later.” He hears Cas inhale, but he continues talking, needing to tell _someone_. “I’m scared. I’m scared about what people are gonna think, I’m scared about the changes my body is about to go through. I been hiding who I am for so long, I don’t know… I don’t even know if I know who I am, anymore.”

Quiet settles. Dean can’t bring himself to look at Cas. He feels vulnerable and scared and now that the blockers are working their way out of his system he knows Cas can smell everything he’s feeling and it’s a little… violating, Dean thinks, that people can just take a big whiff and be able to tell how someone’s feeling. He’s spent so much time being able to hide his thoughts, his emotions, no one being able to tell how often he wrangles with anxieties or insecurities and now it’s just… out there. For anyone to scent.

For Cas to scent.

“Before we discuss this any further, Dean, I think it’s important for me to know why you chose to live like this.” Cas pauses, seemingly considering his words, but his tone of voice is calm, and Dean still doesn’t really know how his nose works, but he thinks he at least feels some comforting vibes coming off of the alpha. “I will not judge you for anything. But there’s a reason you’ve chosen this path, and I’m not blind to the fact that our dynamic might change now. I need to make sure I won’t overstep any boundaries, Dean.” 

Taking in a shuddering breath, Dean draws his knees up on the couch, wrapping his arms around them and pressing his forehead to the valley between his kneecaps so he doesn’t have to look at Cas while he talks. Because Cas deserves to know what happened, why Dean’s like this - of anyone and everyone Dean knows, Cas is really the only one that Dean _trusts_. And Cas is right; Dean’s basically hitting puberty all over again, and Cas is an alpha, and their biology… who knows what will happen when Dean finally settles into his secondary. He’d like to think that nothing will change, but he’s not stupid, or naive. 

So, he talks. 

“My dad always knew I was gonna be an alpha. My mom died when I was four and I became the man of the house, y’know. Dad would work long hours to make sure he could provide for us, and I stayed at home to take care of Sammy and the house. Which, I guess,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “shoulda been the first clue that I was gonna be an omega. I cooked, I cleaned, I was basically a mom to Sammy. But Dad… he saw it as steppin’ up to the plate, shouldering responsibility and doin’ what I needed to do in order to help out. As I got older I filled out, y’know, played sports and was… popular I guess. Won state wrestling championships three years in a row. Dad’d tell all his friends about how I was gonna take over the shop and bring it back to glory, draw in customers with my rugged good looks and my way around an engine.

When I turned sixteen, Dad started talkin’ ‘bout havin’ a presenting party. Which is kinda hokey and old-fashioned, but y’know what? I was gonna make my dad proud. I agreed to the party and invited all my friends, and Dad invited pretty much the entire town. There wasn’t no one who didn’t know about it. Doctors said I’d be presenting around Summer solstice, so Dad made a save the date for July tenth.” Letting out a blustery sigh, Dean squeezes his legs, then tips his head back against the couch to stare up at the ceiling through blurry vision. “On Summer solstice, my body started changing. But I knew somethin’ was wrong… ‘cause all the other alphas I knew said the change lasted a day, and they woke up with a knot. My change took a week so my insides could rearrange themselves.

We all knew. Sammy, fuck, Sammy, brought me food and water and forced me to shower, took care of me when I couldn’t do it myself. I didn’t see my Dad at all.” Tears start burning his eyes, but Dean doesn’t try to stop them. “When I was finally able to walk on my own and rejoin the world, Dad wouldn’t look at me. Couldn’t. Didn’t talk to me much, but if he did, it wasn’t nice. Had some choice words to say about me, an omega, hangin’ around my alpha buddies.” His voice drops to a mumble. “Always had somethin’ to say about me bein’ an omega, period.” Sighing, Dean scrubs his face with his hand, straightening out his legs to rest his socked feet on the coffee table. 

“I emancipated. Got on suppressants and blockers. At seventeen I knew it’d be safer and better for me to fool the world into thinkin’ I’m a beta. So that’s what I did. And have been doin’. And the doctors warned me about long-term suppression, but I didn’t care. ‘Cause there were so many times when I thought… I’d rather die, than be outed as an omega.” He huffs. “Then I moved here, got Pamela Barnes as a doctor, and she finally won the argument for me to get off of the suppressants.” 

A few moments pass, before Cas asks, “What were the long-term effects of the suppressants and blockers?”

“Doc said I wouldn’t be able to mate and would be infertile,” Dean replies without much emotion. “I never been with anyone, never thought about pups, but having those options taken away from me without my permission… I guess some base, omega instinct told me to not allow that to happen.” He snorts. “Couldn’t control my instincts, even though I had control of my body.”

“It is not weak to want a family,” Cas finally says, his voice soft and comforting, his scent wafting over Dean like a gravity blanket. “I think you view your world a little too narrowly, Dean.”

Frowning, Dean finally tilts his gaze towards the alpha. “Whaddya mean?”

“How many people do you know would actually care that you’re an omega?” Cas asks. Dean’s eyes narrow, but Cas presses on. “Things are different in today’s world, Dean. Views no longer align with your father’s. And I’d like to reassure you that your judge of character is sound. I can’t think of a single person in your life that would be disappointed in you, Dean.”

“My business-” 

“-is successful because it’s _yours_.” Cas interrupts, words firm.

Dean thinks about Dr. Barnes’ similar comforts. Unclenching a little, Dean shifts so he can curl up against the arm of the couch. Cas has taken everything in stride, like pretty much everything else that ever goes his way. He’s such a good friend. A good person.

A good alpha.

Cas grabs the blanket off of the back of the sofa and drapes it over Dean, then stands and sends him a reassuring smile. “I’ll fix some food. Relax a little, Dean. You’re safe.”

Something about Cas saying those words mixed with his rich scent has Dean obeying before he can even realize. His eyes close, his body melts, and he drifts off into blissful sleep, the sounds of Cas tinkering in the background settling something deep within.

\--

Hours later, Dean wakes up to the delicious smell of Castiel's famous homemade tomato rice soup. He'd let slip a while ago that it was the one thing he ever remembered his mother cooking for him as a child. Granted, John had eventually told Dean that his mom had fed him the canned stuff, but that didn't take away its importance. Spilling that info drunkenly to Cas one night had resulted in the man developing his own recipe, one filled with savory spices and perfect for dipping grilled cheese in, something to fall back on if either of them were having a rough time.

Smelling it now, with his newly reborn nose, makes his mouth and eyes water at the same time, for different reasons. Sitting up from his nest on the couch, feeling emotionally hungover, Dean wipes at his face and then stands up. He takes the blanket with him, wrapping himself up pathetically, shuffling into the kitchen where Cas is standing at the stove, stirring the soup with one hand, reading a book with the other.

Dean clears his throat awkwardly. Cas glances towards him in mild surprise before his expression melts into one of warmth and affection, those blue eyes reminding Dean that no matter what comes, his best friend will be by his side.

"Good evening," Cas greets, setting the book down on the counter and resting the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. He turns to fully face Dean, open and welcoming. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a sad baby," Dean replies, sitting on a stool at the island, opposite of Cas. He puts his elbows on the table and threads all ten fingers through his hair. "Sorry I'm a mess."

"We've seen each other at our best and worst," Cas says, turning back to the soup once he's sure Dean isn't going to start crying again. "Your emotions are probably going to be haywire until they balance out."

"Great," Dean mumbles moodily.

"In any case, I'm here to help in any way I can."

Flapping his lips in a blustery sigh, Dean slouches over the quartz countertop. "Why are you so good to me?"

"I don't know, actually," Cas says dryly, looking over his shoulder at Dean. "I should have left eons ago."

Rolling his eyes, Dean can't help the small smile on his lips. "Really, though. You're a good lookin' bachelor. You can't settle down with someone nice when you're fussing over little ol' me."

Cas keeps his back and head to Dean when he replies, "Perhaps I enjoy being settled down with you."

Dean gapes.

The soup bubbles.

Cas doesn't say a word.

"Huh," Dean breathes. "Am I really that dumb?"

"You've been noseblind," Cas says, still not turning around. Dean hates it. "You haven't been able to smell me, or smell us when we're together." Dean frowns. Cas finally turns to send him a guarded, but curious look. "When I got here, what did your nose tell you?"

"I-" Dean frowns. "I don't know. M'not good at deciphering it yet."

"What do I smell like?"

"Uh… kinda like me? But… earthier?" Dean ventures.

"And why would I smell like you… and you smell like me?"

Tick.

Tock.

Castiel turns off the burner just as Dean says, "Son of a bitch, we're scent bonded?"

Cas busies himself with greasing a frying pan. "I didn't know you couldn't scent at all. Even betas noses can pick up scents. Until today I thought for sure you knew."

"But we-" Dean tries to wrap his head around the situation. "For how long?"

Cas quiets down as he slices the cheese, and continues to stay quiet when he starts slathering the bread with butter and mayonnaise. 

"Cas," Dean is _not_ pleading.

"Balthazar broke up with me because of my feelings for you."

Dean almost falls off of his stool, yelling, "That was five years ago!", his hands scrabbling at the counter to keep himself upright. 

"I assumed you were an asexual beta," Cas continues, keeping his back to Dean while he cooks. Damn Dean's new nose, he can't pick apart the smells coming off of Cas, can only smell the heavenly dinner he's being made. "So I never pushed."

"Have we been scent bonded for that long?" 

"I believe so. Your smell was so muted because of your blockers, no one else caught on that we were bonded. People could smell that I was unavailable, but even when we were together no one made the connection."

"Cas, fuck," Dean feels some hysteria leave him in the form of a delirious chuckle.

"I understand your confusion, and your anger-"

"I'm not mad, Cas," Dean's quick to say, voice earnest. "Hey. Look at me?"

Meekly, Castiel finally glances over his shoulder at Dean, pausing in layering the sandwiches in the hot pan. He's looking at Dean through his lashes, chin lowered in submission, and Dean feels his heart squeeze.

"Now that I'm off my blockers, you can't tell that I'm crazy about you?"

Cas's eyes widen almost comically.

Dean laughs, "Shit, man, this is… fuck. Too much."

"Dean," Cas says evenly, like he’s talking to a five year old, "when people scent bond it is the prerequisite for mating."

"I'm noseblind, Cas, not dumb," Dean says with an amused smile.

"Oh," Cas says.

"Oh," Dean echoes, still smiling.

"Then… may I court you?"

"What the fuck have you been doing for our whole friendship?" Dean wonders aloud, looking at their friendship with an entirely new outlook. "Hell, dude, you've been courting me all this time?"

"Unofficially," Cas mutters, turning back to the stove. "You never responded to things in an instinctual way, which is why I assumed you were asexual."

"Shit," Realization dawns on Dean, "Fuck, you- did you pine? Did I make you sick?"

Cas shakes his head, smiling warmly. "No, Dean. I never felt rejected by you."

"Oh thank God," Dean slouches in his seat, rubbing his face idly. He grins into his palm, voice muffled, "Did we just become boyfriends?"

"We've basically been boyfriends for the past five years," Cas says in that dry way of his, "I've been waiting for you to ask me to move in."

"I dunno, you leave your dirty socks on the bathroom floor," Dean muses playfully.

Cas flips over the grilled cheese sandwiches, "That's only one of my many horrible traits."

Dean slides off his stool, falling into the sarcastic humor as he rounds the counter, unable to stay away from Cas now that he knows what they are, what they've been. Behind Cas, Dean slips his arms around the alpha's waist, still wrapped up in the blanket, pressing his forehead against his spine. "Fuck yeah you're awful, I coulda been waking up with morning blowjays this whole time."

He can hear Cas's nose scrunch when he says, "Blowjays?"

"Shaddup, I'm a virgin," Dean grumbles.

Laughing, Castiel turns off the burner and then turns in Dean's arms. It's comfortable, being with Cas like this. Like it always has been. And now with all this newness-- 

Dean sneezes right in Castiel's face, spraying spittle all over him. Cas's eyes squeeze shut, his upper lip curls, and they both freeze.

"Uh," Dean offers a sheepish smile. "I think I can smell you, now."

\--

Cas calls Charlie to let her know he won't be in for a few days. Dean insists that it's not a big deal, he'll be fine, but as Cas had casually perused the pamphlet Dr. Barnes had given him, the alarm in his scent was so tangible, Dean went into a sneezing fit.

"Dean, this is very serious," Cas says the next morning over breakfast. He'd slept on the couch, the chivalrous asshole. "I want to make sure you're ok."

"If I were a beta you wouldn't have your panties in a twist," Dean mutters into his egg scramble. 

"If you were a beta there would be nothing to twist my panties around. You're an idiot if you think I'm going to let you go through all these changes alone."

Dean thinks about how John hadn't been there for him the first go around. How Dean almost died during his first heat, if it hadn't been for Sammy checking in on him. How Dean didn't dare ask anyone how anything worked, how he'd managed to somehow miss high school sex ed and all the glorious information that would have come in handy. He'd felt so alone, abandoned, and all those nasty emotions coupled with his first heat… he really could have died.

But now he has Cas. Cas, who's pretty damn dorky and so no nonsense at times Dean wonders if he was born with an objective view of the world and squinty eyes. Cas, who has never been anything but kind, doting, and understanding. Cas, who had fucking scent bonded with him and was still gentlemanly enough to not ever _expect_ anything from Dean. 

An idiot.

Fuck, but Dean loves him.

"Fine. What's the worst thing on that list?" Dean grouses, shoveling three strips of bacon into his mouth all at the same time.

"You mean aside from dying an agonizing, painful death?" Cas deadpans.

Dean smiles brightly, some bacon falling from his mouth.

Cas sighs, lifting his coffee to his mouth, free hand holding the pamphlet as he reads. "Well, I suppose it depends on what your definition of 'worst' is. You're basically going through a second puberty. You'll have a heat. You're unmated," Cas sneaks a glance at the omega, who is now cramming eggs into his mouth as well. His eyes go back to the pamphlet, "and past breeding prime, which means your first heat will come with blood loss, as your body expels unused viscera from your womb."

Dean gags.

Cas idly says, "You're the one who wanted to do this over breakfast."

"Alright," Dean finally chews and swallows his food. "So I'm gonna have a period, basically."

"Yes. Then your womb can regenerate back into fertility, hopefully."

"Move on from the heat crap," Dean says, taking a drink of orange juice. "What other unpleasantries will I be subjected to?" He then mutters into his glass, “Fuckin’ manopause.”

"Well, Your Highness," Cas says, amusement in his voice. "There's a very minimal chance of lactation as your body realigns itself to its natural biology."

"Ugh." Dean laughs a little. "So basically my heat is gonna be the worst thing?"

"Everything else seems rather trite. Mood swings, your nose acclimating. All your stifled omega instincts will likely overwhelm you at some point. Domesticity, and the like."

"Man, I'm gonna be a shitty omega," Dean snorts.

“On the contrary, Dean, you’ve been a splendid omega,” Castiel says, setting the pamphlet down so he can finally focus on eating.

Dean squints at Cas so hard his vision blurs a little. “Right.” 

“And no matter what,” Castiel sends Dean a reassuring, warm, affectionate smile, his scent warming with those rich patchouli notes, “I will be by your side for all of it.”

\--

Dean’s on edge, for a lot of reasons. He feels alright enough that he can work, at least office stuff, which sucks because he really wants to turn a wrench until a screw strips, but he feels… alright. Cas has all but moved in, helping Dean through all sorts of things; but the most invaluable thing Castiel has helped him work through is scents. All of them. From nature to other weres, he helps Dean pick through all the nuances and notes to figure out what’s what and who’s who. Dean still feels terribly exposed knowing that people can smell him now, and kind of hates the itchy feeling in his nose whenever he comes across a smell he loathes (last week’s customer Michael Milton nearly burned Dean’s nose hair right outta his nostrils), but he’s got no choice in adapting to it all.

Castiel sleeps on the couch because he’s fucking perfect but Dean thinks he can handle that, too. At least until his heat hits. Which he is so not looking forward to. He and Cas have already discussed and decided that Cas will help him through it… so far by keeping him fed and watered, but they’ve left the door open for ‘more’, for the just in case. Y’know, so Dean doesn’t have to swallow _all_ of his pride if he ends up begging for Cas’s knot. They’re just being prepared, ok? 

Anyway, Dean’s on edge and he’s holed up in his office because the combined scents of customers, employees, and tools is giving him a headache. He feels hot and itchy under his skin, and he does his best to not scratch, because he doesn’t want to look like one of those before-and-after meth posters, but damn it’s hard. Not to mention all the sneezing. He’s hot and itchy and sneezy and it sort of feels like the flu… especially when he starts sweating. 

“Boss,” Benny knocks at the same time he opens the door, which really defeats the purpose of knocking in the first place. But joke’s on him because his eyes widen, his nostrils flare, and his lips part as he quite clearly scents the air. 

“Y’know most people wait to hear ‘come in’ after they knock,” Dean grouses. He’s watching Benny warily, unsure if he’s ever seen the man scent before. Benny’s woodsy scent hits him full force, sharp around the edges, right outta left field and Dean feels an odd thrum in his veins… and then wetness in his coveralls. “Holy shit.”

“You gotta go, brother,” Benny says, his jaw tight, pupils dilating. “I was comin’ in to tell ya I can smell ya from a mile away.” 

“I think I just shit my pants,” is all Dean can say. 

That seems to break whatever spell Benny’s under because he barks out a surprised laugh, reaching up to cover his mouth and nose, both to stifle his chuckles and cover his nostrils. “Brother, your heat’s comin’ on, and ya just slicked.”

“I _what_ -” Dean stands up abruptly, immediately grossed out. _Slick_ came out of his _asshole_ oh, fuck. “What do I do? Do I clench? Do I need a tampon? Holy-”

Still amused, Benny takes a step towards the door, “I’ll call that Castiel o’ yours, you just sit tight.”

“If I sit I’ll be in a puddle!” Dean yells at the now-closed door. Alone, he huffs, and gets blasted with his own scent. The lemon tang is overriding the florals and he has a round of three sneezes and he paces for a few seconds before he realizes the movement of his thighs is spreading the slick between his cheeks and thighs and oh God. Oh God this is disgusting. 

There’s a knock at the door, Dean growling loud in reply. 

Garth, a beta junior mechanic, says cheerfully through the wood, “Heya boss! Castiel is on his way. Benny took an early lunch.”

“When Benny gets back and I’m gone tell him he’s in charge until I’m back,” Dean calls out. His voice his rough, throat dry, the growls almost rendering his words inaudible. 

“Sure thing boss man!”

Left in blessed silence, Dean glances at the clock. Benny’s scent still lingers, and while it’s not as good as Cas’s, it’s still pretty damn good - Dean thinks that even though he’d been noseblind he managed to surround himself with people who are biologically compatible with him even in a platonic manner. Talk about instincts. It’ll be another five minutes until Cas shows up, since Dean only lives ten minutes from the shop, and it feels like a fucking eternity. 

Just as he starts eyeballing Jo’s locker, where he _knows_ she has tampons, the door bursts open. He turns around to see Castiel, wild-eyed and wild-haired, breathing heavily as he scents the air. Dean’s omega is tempted to submit, bend over the desk and present, but Dean’s got an iron Goddamn will, so he strides forward to slap Castiel across the cheek.

“Get ahold of yourself!” Dean barks.

Castiel’s hand flies to his reddening cheek, eyes clearing and breaths calming substantially. Instead of looking pissed at the fact Dean slapped him, Castiel manages to get himself under control enough to nod towards Dean, voice slightly strangled. “Let’s get you home. The entire shop smells like an omega going into heat and your employees need to be able to clear it out before the next wave of customers.” 

Dean feels some slick trickle down his thigh, a glob heavy enough to travel all the way down to his ankle and soak his sock. “This is fucking disgusting, I feel gross.”

Cas takes Dean by the elbow, leading him out of the office towards the back door that leads to employee parking. He's quiet, efficient, and when Dean gets buckled into the passenger seat of his godawful pimp mobile, he panics as the last three minutes catch up to him.

"Oh my fuck," he lurches towards Castiel, the seatbelt keeping him from getting too far. He scrabbles at the man's polo, "I just fucking _slapped you_ -"

Cas pries Dean's feverish fingers away from his shirt, snorting out a laugh as he puts the car in gear and leaves the parking lot. "I'm perfectly fine, Dean. You're going through a lot-"

"Nothing worth slapping my boyfriend over," Dean barks and covers his eyes with a hand, sinking down in his seat. Slick sticks to his skin and starts soaking through his pants, the permeating of Cas's delicious scent in his nostrils turning him into a squirt factory. "I wouldn't- I mean if you wanted me to slap you, like in a sexy way, I totally could, but I didn't mean to-" 

" **Dean**."

Castiel's Alpha Voice shuts Dean right the hell up.

"I needed it. And perhaps we can negotiate sexy slapping when you're not at risk of passing out from fever."

As if talking about his fever summons it, Dean's eyes flutter as he gets lightheaded. "Yep. Yyyyep. Home, please."

The next thing Dean knows Castiel is tucking him into bed, every single pillow and blanket in the entire house in a pile on the bed, his clothes magically gone. Dean’s baser instincts take over as he snuffles around them and starts rearranging them to his liking, twisting and turning, flopping and rolling, his vision blurry and gold around the edges as he does his best to nest. Castiel’s scent is far away for a few moments, but then it’s back in full force, Dean diving under the covers and wriggling until just his eyes and nose are showing. Castiel has one of his fancy reusable water bottles in hand - Dean can hear ice clunking around in it as he moves - and a plate full of charcuterie. Dean’s nose and eyes trail after the snacks and water as Castiel sets them on the nightstand, Dean considerably less panicked now that he’s in his own home surrounded by his and Castiel’s scents.

“I think for now you should sleep,” Castiel says, smiling softly when he catches sight of how Dean’s nestled. He reaches out to gently card his fingers through Dean’s sweat-damp hair, Dean’s eyes fluttering and nostrils flaring as he takes in his alpha’s calming scent. “The first day is always difficult, but since this is your first heat in so long and there are risks of complications… you should eat and rest. We’ll see how you feel when you wake up.” 

Dean’s hot all over, his ass is so slick that he feels a bit of regret for making fun of Cas for buying a plastic mattress cover, and he feels an awful combination of drunk and sick. Castiel’s words make sense, he knows they do, even though they don’t really register and he’s not really sure exactly _what_ Castiel is saying. Familiar fingers help inch food past Dean’s dry lips, the meats, cheeses, and olives only making him slightly queasy as they settle in his churning stomach. The water comes next, Castiel instructing Dean to suck through the weird leak-proof straw, then Dean is hunkering down, succumbing to cramps and shivers. 

He feels himself starting to drift, but Castiel’s scent stays close and strong, comforting Dean into a dreamless sleep.

\--

When Dean comes to his head is a little clearer, but his body feels like it got hit by a truck. The cramps in his stomach are so gut-wrenching that he curls in on himself, letting out a piteous groan as he closes his eyes and pants through his mouth. Castiel is there in a flash, sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed and coaxing him into taking a deep drink of ice cold water. Opening his eyes, vision still blurry and gold around the edges, he takes in the sight of his boyfriend and tries to say thank you, but ends up letting out a low moan of pain, instead. 

“Dean, I know this is going to be uncomfortable for you,” Castiel says, “but I need to examine your anus. If you’re bleeding I need to tend to it.” 

“S’embarrassing,” Dean whines, but he rolls over onto his stomach anyway, spreading his legs as far as they can while tangled in the nest of blankets. If he could pick a person to be embarrassed in front of, though, it’d definitely be unshakable Castiel.

Castiel diligently untangles him, pulling away the salvageable blankets and throwing the soiled ones towards the door. Dean buries his face in his pillow, not wanting to watch Castiel as he examines him. Castiel’s fingers are gentle and tender, nearly clinical, but Dean’s hindbrain reacts nearly viscerally to the fact that his alpha is so close, yet not where he wants him to be. 

Humming softly, Castiel starts wiping a damp, warm cloth over Dean’s aching hole. “There’s some blood discharge and your slick is a little cloudy, but it’s not too bad.” 

“S’there, like, omega pads? Tampons? Anythin’...” Dean sucks in a breath, feeling lightheaded while trying to talk. “Don’ wanna be stuck in bed this whole time…” 

“Bed rest is necessary,” Castiel says, running his warm palm up the length of Dean’s spine. “Would you like me to go to the store and pick up some omega underwear?” 

“Maybe,” Dean says, a bit petulantly. “Don’t want you to leave right now.” 

“It can wait until you’re feeling better,” Castiel agrees. His hand moves to card through Dean’s sweaty hair. “I don’t mind doing the laundry.”

“But it’s gross,” Dean doesn’t whine, not at all.

“We knew this was going to happen,” Castiel reminds him. “I told you I would take care of you.”

Arousal zings through Dean’s cramps, causing him to curl up a bit, a fresh wave of slick gushing from his hole. “Mmmf.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, alpha,” Dean mumbles into the pillow, hiding his face from his boyfriend. 

“Do you think you can eat a proper meal or would you like another charcuterie plate?” 

“M’ starving,” Dean admits. “No red meat.” 

“Pork?” 

“Fine.” 

“Do you need to use the restroom?”

“Can do it on my own.” 

Castiel’s fingers gently scratch along Dean’s scalp, before his weight disappears from the bed and he pads softly out of the bedroom. Dean drags himself to sit upright, blinking blearily around the room. The gold haze in his vision is mildly annoying, but he can see fine now. He shifts his legs, wiggles his toes and ankles to see what kind of movement he has, before he deems himself alright to stand up. It’s slow, all of his movements measured and careful so he doesn’t wind up on his face, and then he’s shutting himself in his ensuite, firstly sitting on the toilet to try and expel some of the slick caught in his hole, and then spreading his legs slightly, deciding to pee while sitting down. Two birds, one stone. 

When he gets up he wipes himself clean with a new, damp rag, catching sight of himself in the mirror. His skin is flushed with fever, his eyes bright and wet and _gold_ , a thin layer of sweat over every inch of his body. He’s gross. And disgusted. He knows it’s better for his health to go through all this bullshit but God damn it, it’s embarrassing and annoying. Once he feels cleaner he heads back into the bedroom, noting that Castiel has taken the soiled sheets with him. Dean doesn’t want a lot of blankets right now, even though his nest was quite awesome; he’s simply too hot and feverish to want all that insulation stuffed around him. 

Flopping onto the bed on his back, he stares up at the ceiling. An indeterminable amount of time passes before Castiel returns to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and coaxing Dean to sit upright so he can help him drink more ice water. It soothes his throat, makes his fever feel a _bit _more tolerable; Dean slumps forward slightly, resting his sweaty forehead on Castiel’s shoulder.__

__“You know I love you, right?” Dean mumbles._ _

__“I do,” Castiel says easily. “I know you’re starving, but I put a roast in the crockpot with some vegetables. Would you like a snack?”_ _

__“Cheez-its,” Dean says plainly. “I wanna eat a whole box of Cheez-its.”_ _

__Castiel’s chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Would you like to eat in here, or do you think you can make it to the living room?”_ _

__“That requires clothes,” Dean grouses. “Don’t wanna slick the couch.”_ _

__“Here,” Castiel grabs the television remote off of the nightstand, pressing it into Dean’s hand. “Turn on something you like. I’ll get your Cheez-its.”_ _

__Watching Castiel go, Dean’s heart squeezes. How did he get so lucky? Not only to have Castiel as a friend, but to (accidentally) land him as a boyfriend? Scrubbing his face with his free hand, he shifts so he can sit up against the padded headboard of his bed. He’s not leaking right now but that’s bound to change, so he shifts the blankets around so they’re not near him. If he soaks the fitted sheet, that’s easily replaceable. His television is on top of the dresser on the opposite side of the room, facing his bed, and he turns it on to start channel surfing. He settles on _Live PD_ just as Castiel re-enters the room with a plate._ _

__Arching a brow, Dean’s nose sniffs. “Cheez-its?”_ _

__“And salami,” Castiel says, climbing onto the bed so he can sit next to Dean. He has a paper towel folded under the plate. “I’ll indulge your cravings, but you should try to get some nutrients.”_ _

__“I didn’t even know I had half the shit you’ve been feeding me,” Dean says, happily taking the plate from his boyfriend._ _

__“I went shopping a few days ago to prepare, so I wouldn’t have to leave when you need me the most,” Castiel says, shifting to get comfortable, draping an arm around Dean’s shoulders._ _

__His scent wafts through Dean’s senses, but it doesn’t last as Dean starts making Cheez-it/salami sandwiches. “Thanks, babe.”_ _

__Castiel kisses the side of his head, voice soft. “Anything you need.”_ _

__\--_ _

__Two days pass with Dean feeling like garbage. His pain has turned into pain _and_ nausea, the discharge coming along with his slick enough to make his stomach churn and cause him to puke. All in all, he’s a damn mess, and Castiel is there through everything; helping him shower, rubbing his tummy where it’s cramped, massaging his neck and shoulders. On the third day Dean wakes up feeling… pretty ok, considering. He still feels the cramps in his uterus but they’re way less intense than they have been, and when he goes to the bathroom to check himself out, there’s no more bloody or cloudy discharge in his slick. For a moment, he thinks he’s on the upswing._ _

__Then he looks at himself in the mirror._ _

__And sees that, overnight, he’s developed… boobs._ _

__They’re small - an A cup at most - but noticeably pronounced, his nipples dark and hard. Eyes wide, Dean stares at himself in the mirror as he lifts up both hands to cup the swell of his breasts. They’re soft, malleable, and when he gives them a soft squeeze…_ _

__“Fuck!”_ _

__His reflection is blurred from the milk that squirts out of his boobs, hiding his shocked expression and deep flush. Castiel comes running from the living room (where he’s _still_ sleeping, the bastard), and Dean has no time to cover up before those pretty blue eyes hone in on Dean’s newest asset. _ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__“ _Oh_ ,” Dean repeats, now just gently cupping his breasts. Now that he’s touched them, they’re sore, and he can feel how much milk is trapped in them. “I didn’t know lactation meant I’d get _tits_!”_ _

__Castile is unnaturally quiet. Well- the guy’s quiet on any given day, so it’s not that out of the norm, but he’s looking at Dean’s chest with unguarded fascination. Dean blushes and moves to cover himself with his arms - but Castiel reaches out, stopping him with gentle hands._ _

__“Dean, you’re…”_ _

__“An idiot?” Dean spits with annoyance and frustration. “A freak? A waste of time? Damn it, I should have never gone off the damn suppressants, this is-”_ _

__“Incredible.”_ _

__That shuts Dean up, his mouth falling open in surprise as he looks at Cas with his eyes the size of dinner plates. “What?”_ _

__“Do you know what this means?” Castiel asks, stepping closer. His voice is a low rumble, his beautiful blue eyes starting to bleed red._ _

__“Um-” Dean doesn’t take a step back, even though he desperately wants to._ _

__“This,” Castiel lifts his hands up to gently cup Dean’s breasts, relieving the pressure, “means that you are able to bear children.” His nostrils flare. “I can smell your fertility, Dean.”_ _

__Ok, why does that make Cas so hot? Why does that make _Dean_ so hot? “C-cool, buddy-” _ _

__Suddenly Cas is crowding Dean against the bathroom counter, his nose pressing into Dean’s scent gland, mouth opening so he can huff his scent. The smells coming off of Cas are aroused, intrigued, _alpha_ , causing Dean’s knees to weaken slightly, his hands lifting to grab Castiel’s biceps to keep himself upright. Dean’s still not too good at reading scents, but he knows that Castiel’s normally cool and calm demeanor has been thrown off-kilter at the sight and smell of Dean’s lactating breasts._ _

__Dean’s previously semi-dry hole now gushes slick, hot sticky liquid slipping down his thighs. The most they’ve done is make out like teenagers, Dean still unsure and shy about his developing omega body and the fact that he’s a virgin, but with Castiel _this_ worked up over seeing him with boobs is enough to make Dean throw his insecurities out the window as he whines out, _ _

__“Can we fuck now?”_ _

__Castiel lifts Dean into his arms without preamble. His nose is still pressed into Dean’s scent gland where he’s getting high off of his scent or something, carrying Dean back into the bedroom. Dean’s been in so much pain the past few days he hasn’t even been able to masturbate the cramps away, and now with his alpha acting like this, his alpha this worked up and needy, his small dick finally chubs up, seeking the attention he so often forgoes._ _

__Castiel lies Dean out on the bed like he’s something precious. He strips himself of his clothes, unbothered about exposing himself fully for the first time to Dean - who is just plain staring, open-mouthed, drinking in the sight of his tan, muscular boyfriend. Honestly, damn Castiel for being such a good person, ‘cause Dean would have gotten off the suppressants much quicker if it meant he could ogle this any time he wants. Castiel crawls onto the bed, arranges some of the blankets so they’re nested in but not suffocated by them, and then settles to kneel between Dean’s bent, spread legs._ _

__“I’ve always thought you beautiful,” Castiel confesses softly, the intimate tone of his voice washing over Dean and warming him to the core, “inside and out.”_ _

__“You don’t gotta woo me,” Dean says petulantly, embarrassment flooding through him. How does Castiel just _say_ these things? _ _

__Castiel’s eyes are still ringed with alpha red, but his movements are careful, gentle as he starts caressing Dean’s calves; up to the knee, back down again, gently running his fingers through the downy soft hair there. “I know. But you need to hear it anyway.”_ _

__Doing his best to not break eye contact, Dean’s heart squeezes. Castiel has been so patient - _five years of a one-sided relationship_ patient - so the least Dean can do is let him have his way. Castiel’s hands slide up over the curve of Dean’s knees and over his thighs, fingers skating the vee of his pelvis before pulling away again. The gentle rubbing has Dean relaxing, his mind off of the cramps that intermittently seize his belly, which causes Dean to lie back against the pillows with a soft sigh of pleasure. _ _

__Castiel’s eyes focus on Dean’s tits. “Dean, I know you’re of sound mind right now.”_ _

__“Mhm,” Dean replies fuzzily._ _

__“I need your blanket consent,” Castiel’s hands continue up Dean’s sides, fingers pressing gently into his ribs. “If you tell me you don’t like something, I’ll stop, but I need to know you want to move forward. The brochure says that your first coupling will require alpha cum, which means I must forego a condom.”_ _

__On the one hand, Dean’s grateful that Castiel is so considerate._ _

__On the other hand…_ _

__“You have my blanket permission to do whatever you want with me.”_ _

__Castiel’s mouth is hot and his stubble burns slightly, but when his lips close around Dean’s right nipple, rational thought flies out of his mind as he tangles his fingers in that messy mop of dark hair. Castiel’s teeth press, his mouth sucks, and then-_ _

__“Sweet Jesus,” Dean moans out as he feels the first squirt of milk spurt from his nipple and into Castiel’s hungry mouth. There’s no way this should feel so good or rocket so much arousal through his body but holy shit, all the pain and cramps and irritation melts away as Castiel starts to drink him dry. Castiel’s strong, gentle hand massages Dean’s breast as he nurses, an odd but sweet mix of a grope and a caress. Castiel’s teeth catch, Dean lets out a reedy moan, and then the alpha is moving to Dean’s other breast, the sensation of the milk breaking free from his nipple for the first time causing his toes to curl and an orgasm to suddenly sweep over him. “Shit!”_ _

__Castiel hums in satisfaction against his skin, not pulling away. Slick and squirt coat Dean’s inner thighs as he squirms on the bed, watery omega cum slipping over either side of his hips. Arousal swims through him even though he just came, knowing his body is reacting to its new fertility as well as his alpha being so close and nursing him. Dean’s fingers pull at Castiel’s slightly moppy hair, nails scratching his scalp, and when Castiel pulls away the omega’s eyes zero in on his lips, which have a faint milky sheen over them._ _

__Using his grip on Castiel’s hair, Dean yanks him forward for a messy kiss. Tasting his own milk is a little odd, but his boobs hurt considerably less, and knowing that _Castiel_ is the one who drank from him definitely puts the icing nicely on the cake. Castiel’s hand dips between their bodies, nudging Dean’s legs apart so his fingers can swipe over the omega’s sensitive hole. Nothing hurts, which surprises Dean; little bolts of pleasure come from the tips of Castiel’s fingertips and make their way through Dean, his little cock chubbing up once more. _ _

__“Please, please,” Dean pants._ _

__“I’ve got you, little omega,” Castiel rumbles. A little purr is starting up in his chest, probably a reaction to drinking omega’s milk. He reaches across the bed to the nightstand, opening the drawer to get the bottle of artificial slick. Things might not be painful for Dean now, but they both know they still have to take it easy and make sure he’s fully prepared to take an alpha’s knot._ _

__While Castiel busies himself between Dean’s legs, Dean pulls on his small erection and licks his lips, eyes greedily devouring the lines of his soon to be mate. Castiel’s shoulders are broad and strong along with his chest, his skin tan and nipples dark. He doesn’t have a six pack, but he still looks _strong_ , the curve of his pectorals and the dip of his hips particularly ensnaring. His cock, though, wow. Dean knows it’ll fit thanks to biology, but staring at it right now, he feels the faintest of doubts - which quickly get overshadowed by Castiel gently scissoring open his wet hole. Doing his best to relax and breathe, Dean fondles himself with one hand, lifting the other to his breast. It’s a strange sensation, feeling soft mounds where he usually feels flatness, but something about it feels… really good, and not just physically._ _

__Castiel’s right: this means that the worst is over. Dean is finally fully an omega. Dean is fertile. Dean’s not going to die._ _

__Kinda surreal._ _

__And super relieving._ _

__He pinches his nipple, just to see, and then laughs outright when a spurt of milk shoots out and lands on Castiel’s head. The alpha looks up at Dean with an unimpressed expression, which quickly turns fond when Dean dissolves into giggles. He feels Castiel’s fingers pressing and working inside of him but then they’re gone, the blunt head of his alpha cock pressing against Dean’s rim as he leans over the omega, pressing his nose to his scent gland._ _

__“Are you enjoying yourself?” Castiel rumbles into Dean’s neck._ _

__“Fuck yeah,” Dean says, still giggling intermittently._ _

__“Mmm,” Castiel hums in reply, rocking his hips forward. The head of his cock slips past Dean’s rim with little resistance, a new gush of slick rushing to meet it, their biology immediately clicking and working together. He lets out a shaky breath, dropping the weight of his body onto Dean’s briefly; his boobs squish between them and he lets out a little huff, the sensation so odd. When Castiel pulls away their skin suctions together with a wet, milky _pock!_ , causing both of them to snort with a bit of laughter._ _

__Before he realizes it, Castiel’s bottomed out, hips snug to Dean’s ass. Dean’s not terribly flexible, so he can’t really bend too much when Castiel sits up to put his hands under his thighs and push slightly, but Castiel doesn’t seem to care. His alpha-red eyes are glued to where they’re joined; Dean whines a little, reaching down to pull at his tight little balls, before his fingers slide lower, middle and ring finger opening into a ‘v’ to frame where his rim sucks Castiel’s cock in._ _

__“Damn,” Dean breathes, “that feels way better than I thought it would.”_ _

__“Good,” Castiel pants, a growl on the back of his voice, “because I’m unsure if I can hold back.”_ _

__“Don’t,” Dean groans, rocking his hips as best as he can with Castiel’s death grip on the meat of his thighs. He’s definitely gonna have bruises. “Been waiting so long for this.”_ _

__Drawing back a fraction, Castiel pushes back in, slow. They both moan in unison, little sparks shooting up Dean’s spine. Any discomfort he felt in the past week or so completely disappears, cured by the sensation of his alpha’s cock deep in his ass. They start to pick up a rhythm together, sweat breaking out on their skin, some milk dribbling out of Dean’s nipples any time they get jostled or brushed. Their scents thicken and tangle, cloying up the room alongside the humidity their coupling creates. Castiel finally starts moving with purpose, pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in, his heavy balls swinging and slapping against Dean’s ass._ _

__“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean whuffs out with every thrust. His hands reach up, palms flat against the headboard to prevent his body from shuffling up the bed._ _

__“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel growls fully. His arms wind around Dean’s frame and without words they’re able to communicate through intent; Dean follows his movements as he pulls out, lifts Dean, then flips him onto his belly. Gathering his knees beneath him Dean keeps his hands on the headboard but presents his ass, knowing Castiel is drinking in the sight of his stretched hole and the slick it gushes, cock and balls tight where they just barely hang between his legs._ _

__Unexpectedly, Castiel dives forward and seals his mouth to Dean’s hole. Crowing out a long moan, Dean’s spine dips, his hips tilt, and his body tries to suck Castiel’s tongue directly inside him. The alpha’s tongue is dextrous, strong, and long, pressing up against all sorts of delicious places Dean never knew existed. Part of him wonders if he should feel grossed out, because he was literally bleeding from his hole just yesterday, but another, more primal part of him, loves that his alpha needs him so bad that he doesn’t care about what Dean’s body has been doing. Just needs _Dean_. Which of course means that Dean just needs _Cas_._ _

__“Please,” Dean pants out, “put it back in, Cas, c’mon. Need it.”_ _

__Pulling away with an obscene slurp, Dean makes the mistake of glancing over his shoulder. Castiel’s mouth is shiny with slick and spit, the sheen reaching all the way down to his chest where some of Dean’s milk has dried. His eyes are bright red, nearly glowing, their intensity amplified by the tan of his skin and the dark shadow of his hair. His fangs are slightly elongated, pink lips parted as he pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly._ _

__Dean swallows, then wiggles his hips as he spreads his knees slightly. “ _Alpha_.” _ _

__Dean’s not sure if he blacks out or not, but in one second Cas is slamming is cock back into his hole with a wet noise, and in the next Dean is exploding his orgasm over the sheets below him. Watery cum spurts from his cock but his _ass_ , his ass _gushes_ so forcefully it pushes past where Castiel’s dick spreads his rim, practically spraying against Castiel’s hips and thighs. Castiel lets out a feral growl, Dean feels the beginning swell of his knot rocking against his ass; one of the alpha’s hands slides around Dean’s body to roughly fondle his tits, squeezing them and forcing more milk out of his nipples as he fucks him roughly and thoroughly. Dean’s body tenses as white hot pleasure fries his brain, another orgasm splashing between their bodies; Castiel’s knot pops at the same time he sinks his teeth into the slope of Dean’s neck, the chemicals in Dean’s body instantaneously blasting through the change. He’s aware of Castiel’s knot pulsing and his cum filling him up, he’s aware of Castiel shifting to lie them out on their sides; he’s definitely aware of Castiel’s hand caressing his body tenderly, lovingly, still squeezing and massaging his breasts. _ _

__Dean comes to, vision so blurry he decides to keep his eyes shut. They’re joined from shoulder to toe, Castiel plastered against his back, his fat balls still twitching and pulsing more seed into him almost rhythmically. Letting out a breath, Dean relaxes, then grimaces as his hand falls into a spot that’s absolutely soaked._ _

__“We’re gonna have to strip the whole bed,” he whines. “Even the mattress pad.”_ _

__“Later,” Castiel rumbles through a purr that starts up against, his chest vibrating against Dean’s back. His hand stops fondling Dean’s tit, instead lowering to cradle the slight swell of his belly, where he’s slightly distended from all the alpha cum pumping inside of him._ _

__Dean chuckles softly, resting his hand atop Cas’s, doing his best to catch his breath. “You fuck like an animal, you know that?”_ _

__Cas hums in the negative._ _

__Rolling his eyes, Dean settles into Castiel and the bed, feeling gross but intensely satisfied. “These boobs are probably gonna go away after my heat. Enjoy ‘em while you can.”_ _

__The alpha nips at his neck, right over the bite that’s already starting to heal, causing Dean to shudder. “Would you wear a bra for me anyway?”_ _

__Reaching his arm back, Dean slaps Castiel’s flank, blushing hotly. “You’re a pervert.”_ _

__“You didn’t say no.”_ _

__“We’ll see what happens next time.”_ _

__Cas’s hips rock, drawing a low moan from Dean. “You’d be very pretty.”_ _

__“I’m boutta serve you a knuckle sandwich for dinner,” Dean gripes, doing his best to inject some grumpiness into his breathless voice._ _

__Laughing, Castiel presses a kiss to the mating bite on Dean’s neck._ _

__This is perfect, Dean thinks as he closes his eyes again._ _

__This was the right time, after all._ _

__\--_ _

___3 weeks later…_ _ _

__“So,” Dr. Barnes sends Dean a friendly smile, “how are things?”_ _

__Dean reaches up to pat Cas’s hand, which is resting possessively on his shoulder. He’s seated on the little table with the crinkly paper, the alpha standing almost protectively near him. “Things are good, doc. I mean- a lot of it sucked ass, don’t get me wrong. Bleeding, and boobs, and just… y’know, generally yucky stuff. But this guy was there for me the whole time.”_ _

__Dr. Barnes sends an amused look at Castiel before putting her clipboard on her lap, rolling minutely side to side on her little rolly stool as she writes a few things down. “No complications with mating?”_ _

__“No ma’am,” Dean replies._ _

__“And did you catch?” she asks, her eyes drifting towards Dean’s stomach._ _

__“No,” Dean says. Castiel’s fingers dig into his shoulder like he’s offended about the fact he hadn’t knocked Dean up. Well- he _is_ offended that he didn’t, to be frank. “But we know we gotta settle into things before tryin’ for kids.”_ _

__“You should have at least three more heats before trying for conception,” Dr. Barnes agrees, sending Castiel a warm smile. “It’s not that your seed isn’t strong, Mr. Novak. Dean’s body was going through too much stress during that first heat. His chances of getting pregnant were less than one percent. As soon as his body acclimates to his heats you can look forward to trying with intent.”_ _

__Grumbling, Castiel resolutely stares out of the window at the blue sky._ _

__Smiling a bit wider, Dr. Barnes turns her attention to Dean. “Well, Dean, I’m glad to hear that things are going well. You went into this knowing all the risks of whether you did or didn’t decide to go off of suppressants. I’m very pleased to know that you not only had someone you trust help you through it, but that your help ended up also being your mate.”_ _

__“Me too,” Dean says happily. He pats Cas’s hand again. “He’s been takin’ good care of me throughout our entire friendship. I’m lucky.”_ _

__“That you are,” Dr. Barnes laughs lightly. “All your bloodwork came back healthy as a horse, Dean. You’re through the worst of it. But that’s all physical-” she leans forward a bit, brow furrowing slightly. “Tell me about work? Friends? Family?”_ _

__“Y’know,” Dean laughs, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “After everything, I felt real stupid. All my friends are cool. My customers are cool. Everything’s cool.”_ _

__“I saw your interview on the news,” Dr. Barnes clicks her pen shut, smiling. “Turns out everything was alright in the end, hm?”_ _

__“Yeah, yeah,” Dean waves a hand, “don’t rub it in, doc.” He grins a little boyishly. “Lotta people saw the interview.”_ _

__“Oh?” Dr. Barnes raises a brow, knowing Dean has news with a lead in like that._ _

__“Including my brother, Sammy,” Dean ducks his head. Cas’s hand squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. “I guess he ain’t spoken to me in so long ‘cause dad never told him where I went, not ‘cause he didn’t wanna see me.”_ _

__Both of Dr. Barnes’ brows raise in surprise. “Well, damn.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Dean lets out a short breath, smile widening._ _

__“Well, Dean,” Dr. Barnes stands up, tucking her clipboard under her armpit and reaching forward to pat his knee warmly. “I’m glad for you. Truly. Now, when we’ve got a bun in the oven…” she winks, “come back and see me. That’s gonna be one cute baby.”_ _

__Castiel puffs up his chest silently. Dr. Barnes laughs as she leaves, closing the door behind her and leaving Dean and Castiel in the exam room._ _

__“Wanna start ‘trying with intent’?” Dean asks, sending a playful grin up to his alpha._ _

__Cas crowds into the space between Dean’s knees, immediately snuffling into his neck. “I’ve never not ‘tried with intent’.”_ _

__“No screwing in my office!” Comes Dr. Barnes’ voice through the door._ _

__“You’re no fun!” Dean yells back._ _

__Cas laughs, smiling that beautiful gummy smile._ _

__\--  
_Four months later…__ _

__When Dean opens the door, he’s shocked to see that his baby brother is a whole head taller than him and sporting a…_ _

__“Is that a _man bun_?” Dean says, nose wrinkling._ _

__Sam wraps his giant oaf arms around his big brother, drawing him into his body like he’s trying to fuse them together. His voice is wet and sniffly against Dean’s head, “I’m so sorry Dee.”_ _

__Flushing at the affection after so long of not even seeing his brother, Dean paws at the giant’s chest. “Yeah, yeah, me too. Lock it in, Sammy.”_ _

__Still sniffling, Sam pulls away from Dean. His alpha scent is muted but pleasant, some of the fragrance notes overshadowed by a pleasant, fresh smell, like moss covering the forest floor. He turns to Cas, who’s eyeing the situation carefully, then thrusts his hand out towards the other alpha. “I’m Sam. You must be Castiel?”_ _

__Quite obviously holding back his alpha instincts after seeing another, strange alpha touching his mate, Castiel stiffly takes Sam’s hand. “I am.”_ _

__“Look,” Sam licks his lips, eyes earnest and bright. “I’m not sayin’ an omega needs an alpha or whatever, because that’s really old-fashioned and toxic, but after hearing what Dean went through, I’m really glad he just had _someone_ with him to help, no matter what their subgender is.”_ _

__This makes Castiel blink in surprise, some of the posturing melting off of his tense frame. He cuts a glance towards Dean, who definitely feels like rainbows are shooting out of his eyes. “Well- um, yes. Dean is very precious to me, so it only made sense…” he trails off. Sam is shooting rainbows out of his eyes, too. “I’ll go make coffee.” Castiel hightails it out of the entryway, leaving the brothers alone._ _

__This time Dean draws Sam into a much more subdued, but affectionate hug, thumping him on the back. “Man, look at you. My brother the lawyer.”_ _

__Sam laughs a little, “And look at you! Doing what dad said you never could, _and_ coming out of the closet. You’re kind of a bad ass, Dean.”_ _

__Puffing his chest up a little, Dean guides Sam towards the living room. “Hell yeah I am. How long you in town for?”_ _

__“The week,” Sam says, flopping his long body onto the couch and grinning up at Dean. “So good luck getting rid of me.”_ _

__Dean smirks, “It’s not me you gotta worry about.”_ _

__Castiel comes out with two cups of steaming coffee and one bottle of water tucked under his armpit. He hands Sam his mug, hands Dean a water bottle, then takes up a seat in the recliner so Dean can sit next to his brother. Dean does so, cracking open his water bottle and taking a deep swig. Sam squints between them, gives a subtle sniff of his nose, then sits upright, eyes wide and hair practically standing on end._ _

__“I’m gonna be an _uncle_?”_ _

__Dean sends a sunny smile towards Cas, who’s hiding his smile behind the rim of his mug. “Told ya he’s smart.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if there's any tags i need to add!  
> thank you for reading ♥


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